I couldn't do it anymore. It was like everything I knew was crashing down upon itself, one thing after the next, taking bits and pieces of my sanity with. I hadn't told anyone about my plans. Why would I? It was pointless to tell, because I knew it would mean ruthless watching of my overprotective butler and not to mention my fiance. I wasn't dumb, and I wasn't stupid. I didn't make a will, I didn't show sudden affection. I hid my plans deep down inside my mind, away from all prying eyes and fingers. And that's alright. The day had come.

The meal was just as good as any other – salmon smoked to perfection with white wine – and perhaps even better. I took my time, chewing two bites longer, savoring. I was allowed to, it was my last meal. I wouldn't call it that. No, last meals were for prisoners. I was on no death sentence. If anything, I was escaping from a jail, not being put out of my misery like some animal.

I could sense Sebastian watching me from the corner of my eye. Forcefully, I told myself that he knew nothing, he couldn't have. My fears were settled when the only thing he did was wipe a small smudge of asparagus from the corner of my mouth. "There you are, my lord." was his only words, and silence filled the air after.

I waited so long until I heard Sebastian's door close for the night. The moon had risen from the horizon slower than I would have liked, but none the less. I had picked out my method from hundreds and even thousands. Out in the small wood area a distance away from the house, the plants that grew were not tended by Sebastian nor Finny. I had stumbled upon them by accident as I was first beginning my plans, and by the small book of poisons I found in the library when I was returning one of Charlotte Bronte's book of poems, I had discovered it was oleander. It caused heart attacks and other failures, and it was just what I needed.

I ran a bath, not bothering to heat up the water (As this would take up too much time) and as it filled I began to write a note. I wrote that I left all of my belongings to Elizabeth, and the company to- I paused in scrawling. Who do I leave the company to? Elizabeth couldn't handle it, she was merely a girl. I couldn't leave it to Lau, or Sebastian. 'Ah,' I thought pleasantly, 'I'm sure Prince Sama would like that.' I wrote just those thoughts. I looked at the ink for a moment before I wrote the final willings. I stopped the tub from running, the water just close enough to the edge for me.

I took the five small oleander leaves in my fingers, and without hesitation, put them in my mouth one at a time. They tasted like nothing at first, but bitter when I bit down, chewing diligently before swallowing it down with left over tea that I had requested earlier that evening at my bath. My deed was done, and this was my final moments. I picked up the pen I was writing with, and wrote my final sentence.

"And my soul is to belong to Sebastian Michaelis."

I stared at it for a moment before I nodded contentedly, rolling the paper up into a cylinder and tying it gently with the eyepatch, mostly because I had nothing else to do it with. By then the oleander was setting in, and I was getting dizzy as my heartbeat hitched. A small, unamused smile crossed my face as I half stumbled to the bath, sinking into the freezing water completely clothed. I closed my eyes, blowing outwards under the water. If the oleander didn't kill me, drowning would. As I waited those final moments patiently, I recited my favorite poem from Charlotte in my mind.

There's little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave;
I've lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.

Calmly to watch the failing breath,
Wishing each sigh might be the last;
Longing to see the shade of death
O'er those beloved features cast.
The cloud, the stillness that must part
The darling of my life from me;
And then to thank God from my heart,
To thank Him well and fervently;

Although I knew that we had lost
The hope and glory of our life;
And now, benighted, tempest-tossed,
Must bear alone the weary strife.